


to hurt quietly and fiercely

by honey_butter



Series: chronic pain peter [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Peter Nureyev Has Chronic Pain, and the rest of the crime fam, can be read separately from the rest of the series, content warning for brief internalized ableism, he has a sudden flare up while on a heist, juno helps once again, peter nureyev has chronic illness, sometimes your legs just give out on you and you cant do anything about it ya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_butter/pseuds/honey_butter
Summary: They were on a mission. Stealing a jewel that Buddy said held the key to the next step to getting the Cure Mother Prime (how that worked Peter didn’t pretend to care). They were on a mission and Peter couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, couldn’t move because his legs had decided now was a good time to seize up. If they were back on the ship he would have asked Juno to get his cane, or carry him to his room, if they were back on the ship Peter wouldn’t be getting shot at while he couldn’t move.Peter has a sudden flare up while on a mission.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko & Peter Nureyev & Rita & Jet Sikuliaq & Juno Steel & Vespa, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: chronic pain peter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714003
Comments: 24
Kudos: 154





	to hurt quietly and fiercely

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!! i finally wrote a sequel to my chronic pain peter fic from january. it's a different vibe from the last one, more of a heist and family bonding fic than a soft jupeter one, but i'm still proud of it. i started this during a flare up and then had to put it down before i picked it up again so if it sounds less than smooth then that's why. also, if you haven't read the first work in this series don't worry!! you can still read this one just fine.
> 
> brief content warning for some internalized ableism from peter. i hope you enjoy the story!

The worst part about being in the Aurinko crime family wasn’t the lack of privacy or the distrust that Peter felt hounding him everywhere he went aboard the ship. No, the worst part was not being able to pick his own heists. In all of his years working alone Peter had been able to schedule himself around the mind breaking pain, a master thief couldn’t be collapsing on the job and if Peter missed a few career making heists because of it, well, it was better than the alternative.

But now Buddy was deciding where and when and what they were stealing. Peter still hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell Vespa, to tell Buddy about his… issue. Despite the gentle urging from Juno and the increasingly suspicious glares from Jet and Vespa when he disappeared for days on end into his cabin, Peter couldn’t bring himself to voice it.  _ They’ll use it as an excuse to kick you off the team, _ a voice in his head whispered every time he thought of doing it,  _ they already hate you and once they find out you’re  _ broken _ they won’t want to keep you anymore. _

So he’d kept it to himself, kept his face perfectly neutral whenever Vespa questioned him, whenever Rita teased Juno for hiding away in Peter’s cabin, he kept the pain hidden. And it had been manageable so far. Right now, though, he cursed himself for his secrets.

They were on a mission. Stealing a jewel that Buddy said held the key to the next step to getting the Cure Mother Prime  _ (how that worked Peter didn’t pretend to care). _ They were on a mission and Peter couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, couldn’t  _ move _ because his legs had decided now was a good time to seize up. If they were back on the ship he would have asked Juno to get his cane, or carry him to his room, if they were back on the ship Peter wouldn’t be getting shot at while he couldn’t move.

“Peter, what on Earth are you doing?” Buddy barked over his comms, “We are leaving  _ now _ , darling, unless you’d like to be on this ship when it blows.”

Peter sucked in a breath, trying to get words out to respond. He didn’t want to die  _ (the vile part of his brain hissed about how that was Juno’s schtick), _ but he couldn’t move and… oh, he’d been shot hadn’t he? He hadn’t noticed, the blaster wound in his arm was nothing to the fire burning in his legs.

“Ransom?” Juno’s voice now, over his comms. The lady had been the distraction on this heist and should have been back on the  _ Carte Blanche _ by now. Nowhere near where Nureyev needed him.

“Ngk,” Peter managed, his fingers couldn’t hold onto his blaster anymore and he slumped behind the cover he’d been using previously during the firefight.

“Dammit, Nur— Ransom, it’s one of those days isn’t it?”

Peter ignored Buddy’s collected but harsh, “ _ One of those days? _ ”, Vespa’s maniacal “ _ what do you mean, Steel? _ ”, and Rita’s quiet “ _ oh _ .” He tried to calm himself, the shock from the blaster wound starting to set in, but his whole body  _ hurt _ . Why did he think a corset was a good idea today? It only served as a physical representation of the vice around his bones. 

“Ransom, I’m coming to get you.”

And the crew once again began to roar their disapproval, Peter was still being shot at, and, hm, maybe this is what a panic attack felt like. Jet finally broke through the noise in his head, the man he had idolized for so long huffing out a sigh before saying in that calm but disappointed way of his, “Juno, you are already aboard the ship. I have not yet returned and am the closest to Ransom’s location, I will retrieve him.”

“But you don’t understand—”

“I do not understand because you have not explained to us what is going on, I will get Ransom.”

“But, Buddy—”

“You heard Jet, Juno. Stay on board, Ransom will be fine.”

Peter  _ was not _ fine and he was starting to think that he wouldn’t ever be fine again. It wasn’t so much that the pain made it impossible to move, it probably didn’t hurt  _ that bad _ in the grand scheme of things, but it was all he could think about and he couldn’t make himself get up. Jet should just leave him here, he would only get them both killed.

Rita was directing Jet to his location, Peter focused on her voice, on the fear in it. He didn’t deserve that fear.  _ This is normal, _ he wanted to say,  _ I’m used to this _ . Juno’s beautiful voice responded in his head,  _ you shouldn’t have to be. _ And then the firing of a blaster made him flinch in his makeshift shelter and the pain surged again and he couldn’t think.

“Ransom, he’s almost there. Please hang in there.” Peter’s mind couldn’t ever do Juno’s voice justice. He focused on it, carrying the memory of Juno’s warmth to him. Peter could accept his death if he was allowed this memory in his final moments, he only wished he wouldn’t bring Jet down with him.

“Jet, darling, you have three minutes to get back to the  _ Carte Blanche _ .”

“Affirmative,” and Jet’s voice wasn’t just coming from his comms now, but rather from behind him.

The sounds of blasters were harsh against his ears as Jet fired over his shelter at, and presumably connected with, the two who had been targeting Peter. He screwed his eyes shut at the noise and focused on his breathing, on Juno. 

“Up, Ransom,” Jet huffed before unceremoniously lifting him onto his shoulder. Peter sharply bit onto his tongue in order to stifle the scream that came from being manhandled so harshly, the taste of blood blooming in his mouth.

“I apologize for this,” Jet said again. Peter screwed his eyes shut in anticipation and then they were off, running down the twisting corridors of the ship.

They’d originally thought that it was just a simple pleasure ship, with the standard casino, strip club, and black market, but apparently that had only served as a front for the weapons dealers that truly ran the ship. The weapons dealers that had been much better armed than they had been expecting, and who had detained Peter long enough for this  _ problem _ to arise.

It was his problem, his fault, his brain whispered; the accusations piling and echoing in his head even as his body screamed at the rough jostling that Jet was putting him through.  _ Faker, faker, faker…  _

“Juno,” Peter mumbled, his mouth barely able to move where his head was shoved upside down over Jet’s shoulder.

“Ransom, Ransom I’m here. You’re almost back, you’re almost back.”

“Why do I hurt?” Peter asked no one in particular, Jet’s breath loud above him.

Vespa, Buddy, and Juno all began talking again. Vespa and Juno arguing, Buddy trying to calm them down. Peter tried to focus on their conversation but it was too much, too much energy that was currently being used to tell him how much his body was aching.

And then the air drastically changed from the just a few degrees too warm of the pleasure ship to the usual freezing temperature of the  _ Carte Blanche _ , of his home, the door slamming shut behind them. They’d made it. Peter wasn’t going to die today, wasn’t going to kill his childhood idol today. 

The relief was short lived as Jet continued moving quickly, bringing Peter towards the infirmary.

“No, please, this is normal.” Peter managed to get out, his stomach turning at the thought of the cold metal of the examination table, of Vespa glaring at him like she always did, of them all being able to see just how much he was broken.

“You’ve been shot, Ransom.”

_ Oh, _ he’d forgotten. Again.

The bite of the metal was just as sharp as he remembered, made worse by leaving the, however removed, warmth of Jet’s shoulder. Peter whimpered quietly, tightening his eyes even more at the bright light of the infirmary. 

“Ransom!” Vespa. Of course she was the first one to get here. “Ransom, what the  _ hell _ are you doing?”

“I’m sorry…” And it was a testament to how out of it Peter really was, because a glimpse of Nureyev shown through. Peter Ransom and Peter Nureyev were nearly the same person, both harsh, both bruised, both venomous and easily provoked. But Peter Ransom never apologized, Peter Ransom had never had his heart broken. Peter Ransom wouldn’t be in pain from ghosts.

“You should be damn sorry,” Vespa muttered, rolling up his sleeve and cleaning out his wound briskly. “Keeping a medical condition like that from me was the dumbest and  _ most selfish _ thing you’ve ever pulled.”

“What?” Peter cracked one eye open, wincing again at the light.

Vespa leaned over him, looking directly into his eyes even as she bandaged his arm, “You heard me, Ransom. Don’t you dare hide anything like this again. From me or Bud. After this flare,” she laughed, meanly, even as her eyes shown with concern, “you have some explaining to do.”

And then Juno was skidding into the infirmary too, still in the dress he’d been wearing to the heist  _ (a pretty thing Peter had picked out for him— light purple and slinky, with thigh slits on either side that showed off the entirety of his muscled legs) _ . He came careening for Peter’s side, a hand immediately going to smooth his hair back.

“God, Ransom, how fast that… but you’re okay.”

“Juno,” Peter murmured, both of his eyes opening now so as to take in the whole sight of his lady.

“Juno, Jet, help me move Ransom to his chambers,” Vespa barked, her eyes still uncharacteristically worried.

“Of course, Vespa.” Jet picked him up more gently this time, leaving Juno to do little but fret behind him.

Peter closed his eyes yet again, let his consciousness go as he was carried. He would be in his bed soon, Juno with him… yes, that was a nice thought. It would all be okay, he wouldn’t have to get up for a while. And he could avoid the oncoming conversation with the rest of the crew, the reckoning when they finally realized that he was more trouble than he was worth.

The familiar sound of his door opening pulled him from these thoughts, then the feeling of his sheets and pillow below him. Peter heard Juno pushing his way to him, muttering about how he got cold as he pulled the blankets that had been left at the bottom of Peter’s bed up and over him. 

“You better come get me when he’s better, Steel.”

“Vespa, for the last time, I will.”

She huffed, Peter heard Jet shuffle uncomfortably. “I…. hope he feels better.”

“Thanks, Vespa,” Juno said and then their footsteps were retreating and the door slid shut again.

Juno slumped onto the bed beside Peter, who deigned to open his eyes again  _ (he hadn’t wanted to have to be civil to the others) _ . Juno was watching him, his hands hovering over Peter’s chest and head. “Nureyev.”

With that one word, his name, his secret, Peter started crying. Crying while he hurt like this was more painful than usual, making his breath hitch in his chest and his ribs ache even more. These tears were small, quiet, contained in order to minimize the pain. 

Juno’s hands were immediately on his cheeks, smoothing the tears from his skin, carding slowly through his hair. He kissed Peter’s forehead softly, then his (once again shut) eyelids. “Nureyev, you’re okay, I’m here.”

“They’re going to hate me.”  _ Worthless, worthless. _

“No, they’re not. They’re  _ worried _ about you.  _ I’m _ worried about you. You could’ve been killed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault!” Suddenly Juno’s warmth was being pulled from him, from his bed, Nureyev startled as the lady kicked roughly at the wall of the ship, still in his six inch heels. “I wish I could stop it but I can’t and I… I want you to not hurt anymore.”

“It’s okay.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“You’re right… Juno?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you please take this corset off of me, I’m finding it hard to breathe?”

“Right, yeah, I should have thought of that.” Juno approached him again, hands undoing the buttons that held his corset together deftly. He’d had practice with this, usually in a much more pleasurable situation for Peter, nevertheless his experience was greatly appreciated as the physical vice around his ribs was quickly loosened.

Juno undid his shirt after that, sliding it from his shoulders gently, reverently. Peter wished he could enjoy it. While Juno’s hands were comforting and warm, smooth and rough in all of the familiar places, Peter was in too much pain to truly appreciate their touch.

Juno pressed kisses to Peter’s collarbone, his chest, dropping them featherlight over his ribs. Peter loved him  _ so much. _ Once, the first time Juno had caught him like this, Juno had talked about how he wished to take Peter’s pain away. Then, the pain had been able to take a backseat to Juno. Now, Juno was a comforting undercurrent to the pain.

Juno pulled back far enough to look him over, concerned, “You should sleep, Nureyev.”

“Will you stay with me?” An echo of before, of countless times since.

“Babe, yes, of course,” Juno said, pushing up from the bed and moving to his closet.

Peter watched as Juno kicked off his heels and removed his dress carefully, as he dressed himself in some of Peter’s most comfortable clothes before bringing a sweater and leggings back to the bed for Peter. He dressed him slowly, taking care not to jerk his body. When he pulled Peter’s slacks off and the leggings on, Juno made sure to talk him through it. Peter’s legs always hurt the worst, his toes and his knees and his ankles and his hips screaming whenever the pain grasped him. Juno was gentle, kissing his hips, his knees, his ribs. Kissing his mouth when they finally lay together in Peter’s bed— Juno wrapped lightly around him, protecting him. 

Peter was so in love.

“You’ll have to tell them, Nureyev. After.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“...I know. Thank you, Juno.”

“Don’t thank me, I wish I could do more.”

“But what you are doing, what you are capable of doing… it is enough. I love you, Juno.”

“I love you, Nureyev.”

He couldn’t open his eyes anymore, and, despite the pain, despite the looming conversation with the crew, Juno was there and warm and whole and Peter fell asleep.

  
  
  


The next evening, Peter could get out of bed again. Juno left before him, gathering the crew at their planning/dining/family table before Peter voyaged out of his room to them. His cane was clutched tightly in his hand and he leaned on it heavily, they would surely know that it wasn’t just an accessory now. His face was makeup-less, his hair unkept and unstyled, still in the pyjamas Juno had dressed him in the day before.

“Ransom, I trust you are feeling better?” Buddy spoke first. She was seated opposite from where Peter approached, Vespa hovering over her shoulder. 

Peter let his eyes fall over all of them, the crew that he wished he could call his family, the crew that he was too secretive to truly let love him. Jet was seated beside Buddy, looking calm, Rita beside him, vibrating anxiously, and Juno beside Rita, beside the empty seat saved for Peter. Juno watched him cautiously, warmly. Peter focused on Juno as he took his seat and began.

“I am feeling better, Buddy, thank you.” More stiffly now, must keep up pretenses, “And thank you, Jet, for getting me.”

“It was no problem.”

Peter cleared his throat, maintaining eye contact with Juno. Juno’s eye crinkled, glowing golden in the artificial light of the spaceship. His hand found Peter’s and squeezed.

“As you have probably already guessed I have… well… I have chronic pain. Debilitating chronic pain. And I become ill easily… I understand if this means that I am no longer allowed on the crew.”

A beat and then, “Darling, why ever would it mean that?” Peter’s gaze slid to Buddy’s, her face warm and open. “Of course you should have spoken of this to me and Vespa, if only for your physical safety. Chronic illnesses are hard, especially when you have to deal with them on your own. We will endeavor to help you where we can.”

“You aren’t kicking me off of the team?”

Vespa laughed, more of a bark really, “Do you think we’re idiots? No, of course not.”

“Oh, I…”

“You are no less of a person, Peter Ransom, for your pain. And you are no less competent a thief because of something you cannot control.” Buddy was speaking now, her hand reaching across the table to Peter’s free one, he reached out to her subconsciously.

“She’s right, Mistah Ransom,” Rita chimed in, looking like she wanted to wrap him up in a hug. “We’re all here for ya, we’ll all help ya.”

“I have made wheelchair devices in the past for people who require them. I can make you one if you would like, for when you are unable to move on your own,” Jet said, Peter once again tried to hide his surprise.

“That would— thank you.”

“Of course.”

“And obviously Vespa Dear can help in whatever medical aspect you require.” Vespa grunted her affirmation at Buddy’s words. “Despite the fact that we wish you had not kept this from us, we respect your privacy and your decisions. We will move forward trying to avoid a repeat of yesterday.”

“Thank you, I… thank you.” Peter looked away from all of them, his home, his crew. He couldn’t have imagined better feedback, couldn’t have imagined a more positive response to what he had spent his whole life considering his largest failing. They didn’t care, they wanted to  _ help _ him. 

That dark corner of his brain once again began whispering:  _ They’re liars. You’re  _ broken _.  _ But Juno squeezed his hand again, tightly, his grip firm enough to pull Peter back from his thoughts.

Rita, bubbling over with anxious energy, leapt up from the table, “Family movie night?! Pleeeeeease?”

Buddy’s lips quirked, “That seems to be in order, I’ll get the popcorn.”

They all paused, looking to Peter. Jet stood from the table and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Would you like to pick the movie tonight, Ransom?” And Peter understood it for what it was, yet another layer of understanding and support.

He didn’t fully believe them yet when they told him he wasn’t irreversibly  _ wrong _ , but he was beginning to understand them. Peter’s chest was full of warmth and love, love for the people surrounding him, supporting him  _ (his mind repeated their names: Juno and Rita and Jet and Vespa and Buddy) _ , but also love for himself  _ (and his own: Peter) _ . Finally, finally, loving himself despite and because of his pain.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! i might write more for this series sometime, i really love this headcanon for peter. also, because of this quarantine i've been craving the support of my friends and partner during flare ups even more than before. this was, er, lightly proofread so if you find any mistakes feel free to point them out. 
> 
> as always, don't be shy to leave a comment, i love getting them!! i'm on tumblr at [labelleofbelfastcity](labelleofbelfastcity.tumblr.com) come by and say hi or yell with me about tpp/chronic illnesses! i hope you have a great day/night


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